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I wondered what part of the world that Lex loved the most. It was so horrible, but when the two characters united, their love and devotion, the casting off stereotypes and roles reminded me of freedom I always wanted. Like an omega, I was kept prisoner by my gift, searching for someone to allow me freedom.

So, I kept reading even as the omega MC fell victim to his heat and his alpha to his baser instincts, claiming him but refusing to impregnate him—at least the first time. How caring he’d been to his mate.

Of all the things I knew about Lex, an only child, a surprise to older parents who thought their chances had run out—he was raised on a pedestal, spoiled in ways. He wanted someone that knew he was capable without constantly trying to pander to him. He wanted to work hard, to enjoy the world around him, and be chosen for who he was, not adored for being the only one. In his world, I imagined he felt like he’d won first place by being the only one that showed up. And I imagined he received far too much attention at times, stifled. He wanted family and alone time. He wanted closeness but not smothering, and that I could appreciate—true traits of an archivist.

So, I kept reading as the alpha MC doted on his mate, praised his efforts to start a gluten-free bakery, and the eventual pause they had to put on the plans for when the baby arrived.

The omega that Lex had worked with was fired for being pregnant without a mate, and ended up living with the MC, with the eventual plan to raise their children together and trade childcare in shifts to make the bakery work.

And when it came time for the birth, I stared at the page in horror.

“That’s where it comes out!” I shuddered and finished the book as their micro bakery took off, the two omegas rotating shifts with babies and a happy alpha that put on some healthy weight and adored being a father and an uncle to the children.

“So sweet it’s giving me cavities.” I laughed as I closed the book and compared it to notes online about the plot online. I even downloaded the e-book to peruse and found no differences, save for the e-book had a few less typos—likely from updates.

I blinked my dry eyes and bent over the stack of papers to fill out each one in turn.

No, the book has not changed.

Yes, he brought items from the book.

Yes, he took the place of a character, and no, I did not. Our storyline differed.

I flipped to another page, and it had questions about physical changes.

Skin tone? Unchanged on mine and his part.

Did injuries from the book come back with us? I patted myself down. No, on my part, but I don’t think he was injured—when I bit his neck.

I stood from my desk, rubbed my eyes, and stalked out of the back room.

Lex sat at the desk reading an old manuscript, shaking his head fiercely every few seconds as the edges of him blurred.

“Hold on to the key. It grounds you so you don’t dive.” I smiled as he blinked up at me, a shy smile flitting across his lips for a moment.

“I thought you were avoiding me.” He ran a hand over his tied-up hair and glanced away from me.

“No, just filling out all the paperwork after our excursion so you don’t have to. Least I can do.” I leaned on the circulation desk and glanced at the form he was filling out. A copy of some popularized mystery novel I’d dove into several times. Someone reported that the book turned into some chocolate-factory novel midway through. I thought they were higher than a Clydesdale’s asshole, but Lex seemed to have caught it, if I was reading it right.

“Thanks.” His shy smile—I couldn’t resist leaning in just to nudge a curl of hair from his face. And as I did so—the mark on his neck flashed at me under his collar for a second.

He leaned into my touch, and I kept my hand at the side of his face. “You really just go with the flow, don’t you?”

He frowned, hesitating as if I’d said something he didn’t like, but wanted to take the compliment for what it was.

“I’m not saying you’re easy. I’m saying that you’re like water. You go where water’s welcome and would wear down stone for whatever you want most.” I pulled my hand back, fingertips brushing that spot on his neck intentionally, earning a whimper.

“Sorry!” I drew my hand back sharply, watching the heat in his cheeks rise. “Does it hurt?”

He shook his head, cheeks still delightfully pink, the contrast highlighting freckles beneath his skin that weren’t readily apparent. “Sensitive.”

My unease softened, and I fought every urge to lean over and kiss his soft lips.

“Well, I have more paperwork. You try to have a good day, and if I don’t see you before you leave, do get some rest. Okay?”

He nodded, lips moving as he tried to form words. “I don’t do that. Not… I’m not loose like that. I’m—”

I stood still for a moment, my heart twisting. “You were a virgin?”